I thought of myself as a domestic goddess the other day. Then I asked myself, what does it mean to be a domestic goddess?
This iVillage quiz actually tells you which domestic Greek goddess you are. I’m 45.5% Hestia (kind, open, nurturing, taking care of people, feeding them), 27.3% Penelope (technically not a goddess—creative, crafty, trying new things) and 27.3% Hera (extremely jealous—no, wait, practical, multitasking, low-maintenance style). Other options, where I scored a big ol’ 0, were Kuan Yin (obviously not Greek)(compassion, understanding), Athena (order, efficiency, perfection), Artemis (free spirit, unconventional) and Aphrodite (bedroom, garden).
But what *is* a domestic goddess? I’ve known women to describe themselves as such before, like the woman who sewed my wedding dress. Excellent job, at that. Nigella Lawson has a book named How to be a Domestic Goddess. Her take involves making comfort food. Mmm.
But there’s gotta be a difference between simply being domestic (although nobody wants to adopt that label, since it seems demeaning) and being a domestic goddess. I think the iVillage quiz has hit on something essential: there are many, many areas of domestic goddessness. I think these are the basic areas:
- Home decorating (an attractive, put-together house)
- Home maintenance (cleanliness, not repair)
- Handy handiwork (functional stuff—sewing, knitting, quilting, etc.)
- Handsome handiwork (decorative stuff—painting, pottery, needlepoint, quilting, etc.)
- Home cookin’ (None of that Semi-Homemade crap. I’m kidding, but I do think Sandra Lee consumes a worrisome amount of alcohol.)
- Home bakin’ (not the same as above)
- Hosting (show people a good time, feed ’em good and get them having fun)
I’m not 100% sure what to call it, but it seems like there should be a category for child-rearing and other nurturing and possibly general healthfulness. Sorry, no categories for working—it’s just not domestic.
Have you got what it takes to make it in the domestic goddess world? That’s right—eight arms.